


Cross Pollination

by Silex



Category: Biohazard | Resident Evil (Gameverse)
Genre: Body Horror, F/M, Infected Characters, Large Cock, Multiple Penetration, Non-Human Genitalia, Plants, Rape, Sex Pollen, Tentacles
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-21
Updated: 2019-04-21
Packaged: 2020-01-15 11:00:58
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,503
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18497584
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Silex/pseuds/Silex
Summary: Claire gets careless in the NEST facility and has a horrific encounter with the Ivy zombies in the greenhouse.





	Cross Pollination

**Author's Note:**

  * For [HostisHumaniGeneris](https://archiveofourown.org/users/HostisHumaniGeneris/gifts).



Claire had gotten careless, having walked back and forth through the room Plant 43 more times than she cared to think about. The plant itself seemed harmless enough despite what it had apparently done, the enormous, brightly colored flower hanging motionless from a tangle of vines, dripping in the swelteringly warm and damp room. In all her trips through the room the plant itself had remained still, making no move to harm her, so she ignored it. The most she’d done was to take care not to touch it and maybe that was enough.

Either way, there were plenty of real threats in the room. The vine infested zombies that wandered through the area or waited hidden amidst the greenery were something worth looking out for. Unlike most of the other monsters she’d encountered during her search they refused to stay down no matter how many times she shot them.

Fortunately they were just as loud and clumsy as normal zombies, giving her plenty of time to avoid them, even though she’d had a few close calls when the sound of their approach was masked by the constant rustling of leaves and pater dripping water.

This was her last trip through the room though, or at least the last time she’d have to worry about any danger. She’d finally finished making the herbicide that should have been used to kill the plant before things got out of hand.

Claire paused at an intersection on the walkway, listening.

Was the rustling she heard one of those things coming at her or just the water hitting the leaves all around her?

Probably the plant, the flower was open wider, the colors brighter than the last time she’d been through, moisture dripping from the petals and filling the room with a cloyingly sweet smell.

She stared at the flower, wondering why the plant had been created. Nothing she’d encountered so far made much sense, but the plant was particularly baffling. There had to be a reason to it, but what?

Leaning against the railing that ran along the walkway she blinked, the smell of the flower making her eyes water and her head spin.

Why had she spent so much time staring at the thing when she had so many other things to worry about? Sherry was waiting for her and she needed to hurry.

Pulling her attention away from the plant she continued onwards. There was always a zombie or two waiting between the end of the walkway and the door so she’d have to be careful, but she was in the home stretch. A few more minutes and she’d have the plant dead and with any luck the herbicide would deal with the vine infested zombies that it must have created.

Sure enough, one of the zombies was exactly where Claire had expected it to be, just off center in the walkway, facing towards the plant, seemingly ignoring her.

The connection between the things and the plant was obvious, so the idea that killing the plant would kill them was perfectly reasonable.

Right now the connection between the two was even more apparent than usual, the yellow bulbs on the zombie having opened up into flowers resembling miniature versions of the one Plant 43 bore.

Even the sickeningly sweet smell was the same.

The zombie was blocking her path and with no way around it she had to get by.

A quick check around to make sure there were no others coming up behind her and she took aim. Shooting the bulbs had always slowed them down in the past and the flowers made for larger, easier targets.

Four shots in rapid succession and the zombie was down.

She hurried by it, just as something shifted overhead, sending water cascading off the plant like a rainstorm, soaking her.

The vines growing out of the zombie twitched as she walked by it, or maybe it was her imagination. The smell of the flower was making it had to focus.

The flower in the center of the room and the flower on the zombie that she hadn’t seen from where she’d been standing when she shot it.

She stared down at the garish bloom, so out of place on the shambling thing that it was growing on. It really did look just like a miniature version of the flower in the center of the room.

Her wet tank top clung uncomfortably to her, itching and riding up as she moved.

Without thinking she lifted it and pulled it off, letting the sodden garment fall to the floor.

The air of the room was warm enough that it made her short of breath, but a shiver ran through her.

Claire rubbed at her arms, shuddering despite feeling almost feverishly warm and tried to adjust her bra, which had shifted when she removed her top. Her hands brushed against her breasts and she let out a small gasp. It felt so good, her nipples inexplicably hard and tingling.

Without thinking she lifted her bra to better examine herself. The skin on skin contact, the feeling of her own hands against her chest made her moan.

She leaned back against the railing of the walkway, unbuckling her belt.

Her gear fell to the floor with a heavy thud that she was only vaguely aware of as she unzipped her jeans and slipped her fingers inside her panties to rub at herself.

Unsurprisingly she was wet. She was hornier than she ever remembered being in her life, the urgent need to be fucked blocking all else out.

She slid first one, then a second finger inside herself and began to plunge them in and out, using her thumb to rub frantically at her clit. It wasn’t enough though.

A third finger filled her better, almost what she needed, but there was still something missing.

At her feet the zombie stirred and for a moment bafflement and then fear shot through her.

What the hell was she doing half naked and fingering herself like there was no tomorrow in the middle of a monster infested greenhouse?

She stared at the flower on the zombie, the one that she’d managed to miss. There was something almost obscene looking about it, fleshy looking petals, the colors growing deeper towards the center, drawing the eye to it.

The foul smell of the zombie mixed with the sweet smell of the flower, making her head feel fuzzy, like she was half asleep or drunk.

One hand still between her legs she bent down to try and pick up her gun just as the zombie got to its feet.

The thing may have been dead, but blood or sap or something was still flowing through its veins. Its cock, because that’s what the anatomy had to be, despite its tapered shape and strange texture, was engorged, the color, mottled red and pink with inexplicable dots of yellow, drawing her attention to it the same way the flowers did.

It smelled like the flowers too, mixing with the wet dirt and leaf scent of the zombie.

Claire was paralyzed, her eyes locked on the mutated anatomy at eyelevel as the zombie took a shuffling step towards her.

Every instinct screamed for her to run, that she was dead if the thing caught her.

Her fingers brushed against the holster of her gun as the thing reached her, its cock bumping against her face, smearing her with some sticky substance.

The whole thing was glistening with it, drawing her attention to every bump and vein. Or maybe vines, she thought hysterically, they were green after all.

The smell of the thing, sweet and heady filled her nose as she nervously licked her lips.

The taste was exactly what she’d expected, almost like honey, with something almost rottenly sweet beneath it.

Claire’s stomach rolled in disgust, even as she stuck out her tongue and ran it along the zombie’s mutated shaft.

The little yellow dots were raised. She ran her tongue back and forth over the bumps, transfixed by the texture.

The taste of the zombie’s cock was vile, the sickly sweet flavor doing little to mask the rot beneath, rotten fruit though, not meat. It was like a pear that had been left too long on the windowsill to ripen, perfect sweetness with something foul beneath.

Vines from the thing’s body reached out for her, wrapping around her head and neck, pulling her forward.

She opened her mouth and took the full length of its cock without protest.

This close, pressed right against her nose as the thing thrust clumsily in, the smell was intoxicating. Her vision blurring as her eyes began to tear up from a combination of the scent and the feeling of the misshapen cock filling her mouth.

She only gagged when the thing thrust in all the way, hitting the back of her throat. That was when she pushed at the zombie with one hand, the other hand remained firmly between her legs.

Despite what was happening, or maybe because of it, she was more turned on than ever.

Slowly the plant zombie thrust in and out of her mouth, the bumps of its cock rubbing against her lips and tongue, making her wonder.

More vines wrapped around her, holding her firmly in place, not that she was making much of an effort to escape.

It was hard to focus past anything other than the cock in her mouth and the heat in her pussy. She was so very wet and it felt so good to finger herself.

Staying focused was a struggle that grew harder by the second, the smell of the flower making it harder and harder to think about anything other than pleasuring herself.

Remembering her gun she tried to reach for it again, only to discover that, just like her head, her arm was encircled by vines that tightened when she tried to pull away.

Her struggles intensified as the zombie shifted its weight, pulling her to her knees, as a second zombie approached.

Vines loosened their hold, allowing her to pull away and fall backwards away from it as she grew entangled in her own partially removed jeans.

Her struggles ceased as the new zombie pushed past the first and trapped her between itself and the railing. Half a dozen flowers dotted its body, dripping with nectar, its cock the same bright colors as that of the first.

Overpowered by the scent of the blooms she leaned forward and eagerly took its cock in her mouth, deep throating it.

A moment later the other zombie was back, its cock brushing against the side of her face.

She whimpered, closing her eyes as she gasped for breath around the cock filling her mouth, as the first zombie tried to shove its way in. When the second zombie pulled back the first shoved in hard enough that she gagged, its thrusts rougher, more urgent as it struggled with its uninjured fellow.

The two zombies fought back and forth, one thrusting into her mouth the instant the other pulled back enough to let it in, barely giving her the chance to breathe.

Back and forth they went in a struggle that seemed like it would go on forever until a third zombie showed up.

The contest for which one got to use her mouth grew increasingly violent, more vines wrapping around her to hold her in place, and then being pulled away as the other two tried to push the one currently occupying her mouth away.

They grabbed at her, pulling her back and forth between themselves until she was lifted off the ground as a sort of three way tug-of-war began with her in the middle.

She twisted in their grasp, half focused on getting away and half on getting one of their cocks back in her mouth or bringing one of her hands back to her pussy. They were so maddeningly close.

Yet at the same time she felt clarity returning to her, the scent no longer quite as strong.

One of them wrapped its vines around her feet and managed to grab her pants with its hands and started pulling, giving it a distinct advantage in getting her away from the others until she started thrashing and managed to kick her boots off in the process.

Holding on to nothing other than her pants, it fell backwards, pulling them off and leaving her more exposed than before.

This was it, she might be able to get away.

She spat, trying to get the taste of the things out of her mouth.

Immediately the latest arrival wrapped its vines around her stomach, turning her over and pulling her towards it, even as the other zombie managed to grab her face in both hands and bring her mouth to its cock and resume thrusting.

The taste and smell were back, threatening once again to block all else out, at least until the other zombie began to use its vines to push her panties out of the way, the vines coiling against the back of her hand as it did so.

And heaven help her, she helped it, holding her panties aside as it wound vines around her leg, lifting her and positioning her.

Claire hadn’t gotten a good look at this one’s cock, but she’d thought that it might have been larger than the others and with more of the yellow bumps. She certainly felt them when it slid inside her, the tapered tip allowing it easy access.

It was larger, considerably more so than her last boyfriend had been, and the feeling of those little bumps sliding against her pussy as it thrust in and out made her gasp. Its girth was almost painful, but she was so horny that it felt good, driving her to new heights of arousal.

The zombie wasn’t gentle, thrusting roughly in and out, making her feel every single one of those bumps, leaving her attention split between the feeling of her pussy being stretched by the zombie’s cock and the taste of the one fucking her mouth.

The two zombies weren’t working together, each focusing on what it was doing, leaving her jostled between the two of them. Sometimes they would pull away and she’d have a moment to wonder about escape, or squirm in their grip, trying to get a cock back in her mouth or pussy, other times they would both thrust at the same time and she’d cry out in shock and pleasure.

Dimly she was aware of hands and vines on her leg, the one zombie trying to fight its way back in, or maybe another new arrival had shown up.

The smell of the flowers had her overwhelmed, lost in a haze of pleasure and need.

When the one at her pussy pulled out and didn’t thrust back in she let out a small noise of frustration around the cock in her mouth. She needed to be filled, her pussy was so sensitive that it being empty was unbearable.

It was back, but in its haste it failed to line itself up properly and missed her pussy, its cock rubbing against her clit. Those little bumps rubbing against her was too much and she felt herself come without warning.

Still she wanted, needed, more. Climax provided no relief.

She sucked frantically at the cock in her mouth, twisting to the side when another brushed against her lips. The third zombie was back and she went back and forth between the two cocks thrust at her face, running her tongue over the textures of their cocks, tasting the nectar dripping from them. It was revolting, but she craved it, the smell and taste making the pleasure all the more intense, reducing her entire world to an endless, intense feeling of need.

Claire brought a hand up to hold onto whichever slick cock wasn’t in her mouth, stroking up and down, feeling the sticky nectar clinging to her fingers.

The zombie at her pussy finally managed to line itself properly and begin thrusting again.

She cried out and squirmed against it, trying to help it deeper into her, even as it was pulled away by another zombie that began to thrust in and out rapidly, slamming into her to hard that it hurt, pushing her against the zombies she was using her mouth and hands on.

They pushed back and she coughed and spluttered, droplets of nectar going in all directions.

It was hard to breath, every time she gasped the zombies took advantage of it to thrust in deeper, forcing her to deep throat them.

Vines tangled together, tying her in place, suspended between the zombies.

She wasn’t sure, but another zombie might have shown up, because it felt like they were fighting again, pulling her back and forth between them, but it didn’t matter, there was always a cock in her pussy or her mouth, making it impossible for her to focus on anything else for very long.

She barely even struggled when one of the ones behind her missed and its cock, slick with the wetness from her pussy, slipped effortlessly into her ass. She could take it. In the state she was in she felt like she could take anything.

Pulling her attention from the zombies to her front she looked down, watching her breasts sway and bounce as the zombie pounded her up the ass. Despite the insistence of one particular ex-boyfriend, she’d never tried anal before and, despite having her first time be with a mindless monster, it wasn’t as bad as she’d thought it would be.

She watched it fuck her as she caught her breath. It was hard to focus past the feeling of the cock inside her, but she felt a small inkling of fear through the pleasure at the sight of her breasts. It was hard to tell, but it looked like a fine trace-work of green veins ran across them.

Then the need to taste the nectar grew too much and she lifted her head to once again take a zombie’s cock into her mouth.

It was easier to focus that way and she could look at her arms and hands as she jacked off the zombies that she wasn’t currently sucking off. There were streaks of green beneath her skin, long raised lines as well, but it was so much easier to focus on the zombies, their cocks as she guided them to her mouth, back and forth, trying to give each a turn so they wouldn’t start fighting and risk depriving her of a single moment of their taste because the zombies behind her were fighting again and for the time being both her ass and pussy were empty.

She didn’t want this, what she wanted more than anything was to get away, but she needed to be filled, every second her pussy remained empty was unbearable. Even if one just went back to fucking her ass it would be better than this.

If she could just finger herself, that would help, but she couldn’t. The zombies’ vines were wrapped around her arms, up to her shoulders, tangled with the vines that had sprouted from her arms, the skin painlessly splitting along the raised lines.

They helped her hold onto the zombies, wrapping around their cocks and writhing back and forth. That was good, she needed to be careful guiding them, her teeth sometimes got in the way now as she licked and sucked. Twice she had managed to bite her tongue painfully hard, but she couldn’t bring herself to slow down, the taste of blood lost amid the nectar. The vines were useful for preventing that, helping her grip their slick cocks and guide them into her mouth or hold the others at bay so they didn’t fight as much.

It wasn’t just her arms though, she realized that she could feel them moving across her chest and shoulders. Just like with her arms she could control them. The longest, if she relaxed them, reached the floor, brushing against her discarded clothing, laying in a pile beneath her. That was important, but any thought of why was driven from her head when she finally felt one of the zombies bump its cock against her pussy.

It felt different this time, not the zombie’s cock, but her pussy, more sensitive for lack of attention, but also, despite how wet she was, there was more resistance, the zombie had to push harder and somehow she felt more as it thrust into her, the layers and folds of her pussy feeling the bumps of the zombie’s cock more intensely than before.

She came again, nectar and her own juices dripping to the floor.

Claire couldn’t tell how many zombies there were, just that her mouth, both hands and vines were constantly occupied, and that sometimes she was being fucked in the pussy, other times there was a cock up her ass. Either way felt good and vines, either hers or those of a zombie, were there for whichever hole was unoccupied.

There were times when a zombie would push in, past the vines already inside her, and Claire would pull back from the cock in her mouth and cry out.

It didn’t hurt, or maybe it did and the sensation of being filled to such an impossible degree made her come despite it.

Vines around her face and neck, over her arms, holding her legs spread and thrusting in and out of her pussy and ass, she was enveloped in an ever shifting mass, incapable of escape, and thanks to the scent of the flowers, unable to even want to do so.

It felt too good as she came again and again, never getting any closer to being satisfied, even as her efforts grew increasingly frantic.

There were times when her mouth went without a cock in it for longer, or her pussy was empty save for her own vines.

It wasn’t until she found both hands free, holding onto the waist of the zombie thrusting into her mouth, vines wrapped around it to guide it as its thrusts grew increasingly sluggish, that she noticed that some of the zombies had left.

No, she realized, as the zombie pulled out, falling away despite her vines being wrapped around it, they were collapsing.

The weight of the zombie pulled her forwards and she caught herself before she smashed face first into another zombie laying on the floor beneath her.

It was motionless, vines still, curled in on themselves in loose coils. Even the flowers erupting from it were limp and faded looking. The smell was still there, faint and enticing, but nowhere near as overpowering as it had been at the start.

Carefully she positioned herself so that she was on her hands and knees, allowing her to push back against the zombie thrusting into her.

The smell of the flowers diminishing to the point where she could think clearly, or at least start to do so.

Moaning, she ran her tongue over her lips, tasting the lingering traces of nectar there and shuddered as the flavor brought her to climax once again.

Around her vines and leaves rustled. She looked down at the zombies laying on the ground, but they remained still, wilted looking.

It wasn’t them.

But there were still vines wrapped around her wrists, thicker than the ones that had belonged to the zombies.

Rocking back in forth in time with the thrusts of the final zombie, she traced one of the vines with her eyes, off the edge of the walkway and up into the canopy above, where it was lost amid the greenery.

Above her loomed the flower of Plant 43, seeming to lean down, its enormous, soft looking petals spread wide, inviting her.

In the center of those petals was an enormous appendage, bright yellow, moisture dripping off the countless bumps covering it.

The zombie’s thrusts grew increasingly lethargic until it finally fell, sprawling across her back.

The weight pushed her to the floor, but only for a moment.

Clarity was returning, and though her pussy still tingled with a combination of overstimulation and need, Claire was able to focus on other things.

Like killing the plant and saving Sherry.

She had no idea how long she’d been waylaid for and she was just as frightened for what might have happened to Sherry as she was over what had happened to her.

There would be time to worry about what she’d been though later though, once Sherry was safe.

Claire rolled the dead weight of the zombie off her and pushed herself back up to her hands and knees, the vines Plant 43 had wrapped around her helping.

They didn’t release her when she stood, the vines from the dead zombie breaking when she couldn’t disentangle hers from them fast enough.

She tried to pull away and the plant’s vines tightened around her, pulling her off the floor and towards it.

Screaming in terror she thrashed in its grip, certain that the moment it brought her to those petals they would close on her like a Venus flytrap around some helpless bug.

More vines reached out for her, making it harder for her to move, even as the smell of the flower made her less inclined to struggle.

Lucid thought was once again driven from her by overwhelming need. Her own vines twined around her, caressing her breasts even as her hands went to her pussy.

As she’d noticed before, it felt all wrong, too many layers, like petals, parting as she slid her fingers into herself. Looking down she saw that it was flush with color, deep pinks, darkening to near purple towards the center, like the flowers of the zombies. So many layers all soft and sensitive, dripping with nectar, hiding her engorged and aching clit.

Past the layers of petals, she caught sight of the bright pink nub of her clit, it was larger than it should have been, swollen from all the attention it had gotten and unsatisfied need. There were little yellow specks across it and when she ran her fingers over it she could feel there was a certain texture to it, vaguely reminiscent of the bumps on the zombie’s cocks.

Which were nothing compared to the organ the plant itself possessed.

Longer than her torso and thicker around than her wrist at its base, the bright yellow spear was covered in dense clusters of raised bumps, so much larger than those on the zombies’ cocks

She was close enough to reach out and wrap her vines around it, feeling the layer glistening nectar coating it.

Closer still and she was able to run her fingers over those bumps, fear rapidly fading as the smell of the flower overwhelmed her. Here, suspended over the center of it, there was no room for fear or even thought, just urgent, desperate need.

The tip of the plant’s appendage wasn’t that much larger around than the base of a zombie’s cock and those bumps, she needed to feel them. She slid her hand up and down, gold tinted strands clinging to her fingers when she pulled her hand away.

Gently the plant lowered her onto its petals. The surface was yielding and unsteady, like trying to stand on a waterbed so she dropped to her hands and knees to crawl to the plant’s organ.

Her pussy ached and no matter how she rubbed herself, sliding her fingers, wet with nectar, back and forth against it, there was no satisfaction to be found, not when she was so overwhelmed by the scent of the plant, pollen and nectar dripping from it.

Taking the plant’s organ in both hands she brought her face up to it, inhaling deeply and letting the scent fill her. She moaned, running her hands up and down it, then her tongue, feeling those bumps, savoring the taste. The cloying rot was still there, making her want to pull away, but intoxicated as she was, even that was delicious.

The smell alone made her pussy tighten as though in anticipation.

Leaning against the plant’s massive organ Claire rubbed her body against it, letting it slide between her breasts as she wrapped her arms and vines around it, leaning down to take it in her mouth. Opening her mouth wider than she ever had before, she actually heard her jaw pop as she deep throated the plant.

It was delicious, but it wasn’t enough, licking and sucking at the plant did nothing for her.

Carefully she stood up, positioning herself over the bright yellow organ.

She could do this. She didn’t want to, but she had no choice.

Trembling with fear, she held onto it with one hand for balance, using her other hand to part the petals of her pussy and slowly lower herself down, inch by inch, until she could go no further.

She was stretched impossibly wide, the zombie’s cocks were nothing compared to this, as the plant’s organ rubbed against places inside her that had never been touched before.

Claire exhaled slowly, bracing herself, the small motion enough to make her come, allowing her to slide down another few inches.

Still, she’d managed to barely take a fraction of the organ.

It would have to be enough.

Carefully she stood up until she was nearly free, then lowered herself back down, petals brushing against those delicious bumps.

When she was as far down as she could go she rocked back and forth, twisting ever so slightly from side to side, savoring the feel of being filled so much, before once again rising.

Up and down she went, slowly, carefully, until she found the right rhythm, if there was such a thing.

This time it did hurt when she took as much of the plant’s organ as she could, but she couldn’t bring herself to stop, not when the need for pleasure hurt even more.

As with the zombies, there was no change in pace, no rush towards orgasm, just constant, excruciating pleasure, mounting higher and higher, never finding satisfaction or release.

Except this time she had to do all the work while the plant remained motionless. The muscles of her thighs screamed for rest, her stomach ached from tension, but every time she slowed down the scent of the flower was too much, the need she felt overpowering.

So Claire continued, past exhaustion, pushing herself to her limit and beyond. She had no idea how long she’d been at it or how much longer she’d be able to go on. It would be either her or the plant and there was enough rationality left for her to feel spite. The plant would be first to give out, not her, though she had no idea what that would entail, just that she needed to outlast it.

Her life depended on it.

If she failed Sherry would die.

Or worse.

She wrapped her hands and vines around the plant’s organ, as much to brace herself as to try and hurry it along, if it could be hurried along.

There was more nectar dripping from it, sticky against the insides of her thighs, though that might have been the plant trying to keep her going because there were times when, without thinking, she lifted one of her hands to her mouth so that she could suck the nectar off of her fingers. The taste kept her focused on the plant, even as her mind tried to go in other directions.

Claire lost track of how many times she came, fruitlessly riding the plant, she just knew that after some point she’d stopped, ending up caught in an unending sensation of being midorgasm. It was far less enjoyable than it should have been, a grueling ordeal of pleasure.

That she was aware of how awful it was, how humiliating, gave her hope. Thought was slowly returning.

There came a time when she lifted herself up and didn’t feel the need to slide back down.

Yet at the same time she couldn’t bring herself to move completely off of the plant quite yet. There was some comfort in feeling it inside her as she caught her breath, regained her balance.

The smell hadn’t faded as it had with the zombies, she was just growing accustomed to it.

The plant was still very much alive, even if the yellow of the organ was no longer quite as bright to her, the colors of its petals no longer so enthralling.

Shaking her head, trying to clear away the lingering haze from the smell, she wrapped her arms protectively around herself, shuddering as the vines growing from them pressed against her breasts. It was too much like the zombies, too much like what she’d endured.

Looking at the vines hanging around her, aware enough of her situation to feel fear, Claire hesitated. What would happen when she pulled away? Would more vines wrap around her and pull her back, forcing her to do it all over again or would the plant’s petals snap shut, engulfing her in suffocating darkness?

In the end the answer turned out to be neither. She was able to stand up and walk all of two steps away before realizing that there was a very different, equally urgent matter to address.

How was she going to get down?

The nearest sturdy looking branch was well past her outstretched fingers, even when she leaned as far forward as she dared. She was high enough that she doubted she could survive a fall uninjured, and that was assuming she was lucky and managed to land squarely on the walkway. If she missed and hit the railings or fell past them she doubted the fall would be survivable period.

She stared at the branch, at least six inches past the tips of her fingers, trying not to look at her hand as she did so. Her skin was pale and mottled green, dark green veins running beneath it. Farther up on her arm vines draped down in loose loops, the sight of them horrific evidence of what had happened to her.

They twitched and shifted as she stared, tightening their hold on her.

Taking a deep breath she forced herself to calm down, to focus on the vines and make them once again go limp.

When she got down she could pull them off, or cut them, or fucking burn them

Except they were a part of her, she could feel them against her and feel herself with them.

She swore under her breath, realizing that she’d found her way down, little as she liked it.

Reaching out with the vines was as easy as reaching with her hand and they coiled around the branch without any difficulty, allowing her to lower herself off the flower and slowly climb down, relying on them as much as her arms and legs.

By the time she was back on the walkway she realized that she was as comfortable with the vines as she was with any other parts of her body, as much as she hated to think about it.

They were a part of her that felt so natural it was disgusting.

But she was willing to take that as a good sign because everything she’d been through in the greenhouse was disgusting.

She was done though, kill the plant and she could get the security pass she needed.

Or she could just climb around it.

Plant 43 had let her get this far and there didn’t seem to be any of the plant infested zombies left.

Climbing over the branches and vines that had been blocking her way to the body with the security pass she needed was easy enough, her vines easily reaching it despite the dense vegetation, except as she did so she happened to look up and caught a glimpse of the underside of the plant’s flower.

The bloom looked like it was folding in on itself and there was a distinct swelling at the base.

Like a seed pod.

Letting the thing survive wasn’t an option, besides, there was no way in hell that she was going to walk around this place naked and unarmed.

Keeping an eye on the plant, as though it might burst open at any moment, showering her with zombies or monsters or who knew what, she made her way back to the pile of dead zombies.

Pushing them aside she was able to find all of her clothing and her gear, including the herbicide.

That was a relief, even if getting dressed was a challenge. Her panties had gone missing at some point during the ordeal and the feeling of her jeans occasionally rubbing between her legs when she moved was an unpleasant reminder of what the plant had done with her, how much she’d changed. Then again, the same could be said of her tank top and the way it pressed the vines growing from her torso unpleasantly against her. Having them restricted like that was uncomfortable. On some level she wanted them loose, so she could use them if she needed to.

The thought was irrational though and she knew it.

Aside from getting down from where she’d been stuck what good were they?

Given time she might be able to think of something, but she hoped that she wouldn’t have them long enough for that to be a worthwhile endeavor.

She’d come here to find a cure for Sherry after all, so maybe there was something that would work for her.

Vines twitching in irritation, writhing beneath her clothing, she walked down the hall and out of the greenhouse.

Inserting the herbicide cartridge into the watering system she smiled as Plant 43 recoiled, vines and leaves darkening and turning brown as they fell.

She was a mess, felt and probably looked like she’d been through hell, but seeing that disgusting, awful thing finally die was undeniably cathartic.

Her smile grew wider, maybe wider than it should have been, but that was a concern for later.

She’d wasted enough time and Sherry needed her.

She just hoped that she wasn’t too late.

Breaking into a jog Claire hurried back to the western wing of the building.

Once Sherry was safe she could worry about herself, but for now she had to stay focused, ignore the vines writhing beneath her clothing, the way her mouth felt all wrong, like she had too many teeth and that those teeth were too sharp, and the countless other little things that weren’t the way they should be.

Later, when it was over she could take the time to think about what she’d been through and what had happened to her. Because if she stopped to think about it now she didn’t know if she’d be able to keep going.

For Sherry’s sake she had to keep going.

**Author's Note:**

> Hopefully I wasn't too over the top with this one. I'd planned a much shorter fic but kind of got carried away. This fic was brought to you by orchids, magnolias, anthurium, the aptly named amorphophallus, and a whole host of other flowers that want to be explicitly clear what they want.


End file.
